


sleepless in (not) seattle

by canonlytrans



Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 08:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14637660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canonlytrans/pseuds/canonlytrans
Summary: Based on a Tumblr prompt - "Sleep is for the weak."





	sleepless in (not) seattle

There aren’t many times Jake’s awake at this hour, especially when they’re on leave, which doesn’t happen often. It’s, oh, three AM, and Mike’s eyes flutter open, his arms instinctively going to wrap around Jake, only to find that he’s not there. The other side of the bed’s empty, the sheets pushed back, the covers piled up on Mike instead. He groans and sits up, the darkness settling in, and he looks around the room before he sees someone on the balcony.

He climbs out of bed, pulls on his pants, and opens the balcony door, stepping into the cool air. It’s practically freezing - mid November, the middle of the night, and Jake’s just sitting there, smoking a cigarette in the dark, sitting on the rough floor. He glances up, or at least Mike thinks he does, but he can’t really see in the _dark_. “Shit,” says Jake, which isn’t a first. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” Mike sits down next to him. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Sleep’s for the weak.”

“Nice try, Grandpa.” Mike’s seen him sleep in ‘til 4 pm when he can - sure, usually he’s up late the night before, because they’re both pretty good at keeping each other up, but still. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just needed a cigarette.”

Mike reaches over and puts his hand on Jake’s shoulder, and Jake winces, so he pulls back. “Christ, Jake. You know you can talk to me, right?”

No response. Jake just takes a drag of his cigarette, breathing out the smoke. Then, finally, after about a whole minute’s passed, “Bad dream, okay?”

“You… want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“If you change your mind, I’m here.”

“I know.”

Mike wonders if it’s about Lundgren. About Jake’s family - his sister, his mom. He wonders if they’re doing the right thing (like he’s wondered a million times over the past few weeks, while they’ve tried to figure out what they can, should, and will do.) He’s had enough bad dreams over the years to know that it’s normal, especially here and now, when they could die any day. They’ve come close to it a few times. Mike’s pretty sure there’s at least ten separate times that he would’ve died had Jake not been there, and probably more vice versa.

“I had a weird dream,” he says, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Dreamt we were back at basic, and you and I had to clean the entire base from top to bottom. Except we had to clean it with sponges made out of live snakes.”

“… _what_?”

“And Jeanine was there, too. ‘cept she was dressed up like one of those… French maids?”

“Damn, wish I had your dreams.”

“ _Jeanine_.”

“Not like I haven’t seen her with _less_ on.”

“I didn’t need that image in my head.”

“It was before we -” Jake pauses, laughing. “You know.”

Mike elbows him - gently, not hard, and Jake’s laugh’s infectious, and soon he’s laughing with him. “Still didn’t need to hear that.”

“Okay, I _won’t_ tell you ‘bout my past hook ups.”

“God, please don’t. _Ever_.”

Jake sighs, snuffing out his cigarette, and then takes Mike’s hand in the darkness. “You… you sold me out to Lundgren, and I got thrown in jail, and…”

“I wouldn’t do that. Never.”

“Fuck, I know, Mike. I know you’d never do that. But it’s just… s’lot, Mike, and I don’t know how we’re gonna deal with all this and - shit, sorry, I’m rambling.”

Mike squeezes his hand as tightly as he can. “Yeah, you are, but I like hearing your voice.”

“Damn, you’re a sop.”

“Says the man who bought me flowers for our three month anniversary.”

“They were nice flowers! And we had a week out! I couldn’t just let my _boyfriend_ think I didn’t care about… three months?” Jake snickers. “Okay, I just got ‘em ‘cause I wanted to make you happy. Don’t think we were even dating for three months. Dunno how you remember that shit.”

“Well,” says Mike, leaning towards him, “they were nice flowers.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, and kisses him. “Now, c’mon, let’s go back to bed. It’s _freezing_ out here.”  



End file.
